


Dominiqueism

by Miraphina Atherton (mew_tsubaki)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, One-Sided Attraction, one-sided Domcan, some Lorcrox and Domsan too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 06:56:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8153062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/Miraphina%20Atherton
Summary: Lorcan's such a player, but he's been played this time. "She'd been his goddess first..." *Light T for some language.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. Inspired (pairing-wise) by one of the few Domcan stories on FFN, and done for a prompt. Read, review, and enjoy!

_"I never knew how to worship until I knew how to love." —Henry Ward Beecher_

Lorcan was a playboy. He knew it. Everyone knew it. He loved it that way.

Girls came at him like hippogriffs went at dead ferrets. Lorcan loved the attention and he loved all the make-out sessions. Yeah, he'd chased after Rose for a while, but she had left for Scorpius Malfoy.

So what? Then there'd been little, gentle Lucy Weasley. She was…off-limits, according to her sister, Molly's, death glares. Whoa. Yipes. Okay, okay, so Lucy was off-limits. Had Molly told Lucy that?

Lorcan had entertained the idea of Dominique, but it just didn't mesh. She wasn't just gentle. She was prim and proper, so not his type. Yeah, she was blonde-haired and blue-eyed like him—something which he preferred, fueled by his _slight_ narcissism—but Dominique was just all wrong for him. Yep. Wrongwrong _wrongwrongWRONG_.

Then… Well, must he really elaborate? There were more female Weasley cousins than he could shake a Firebolt at. Like Victoire, Dominique's older sister. Yeah, she was more his type. She was all fire and fury and _femme fatal_ like their mother, Fleur. Victoire had been quite the achievement, since she was several years older than him, but she'd been quite the romp. Now, she was with the old Herbology professor, Neville Longbottom. Um, eww, much? Who the hell went from sexy Lorcan to safe and simple _Neville_?

So he'd gone back to those younger than him. There was still a Weasley girl left: Roxanne. She was _exactly_ his type. Not partly, as he recognized Victoire as. No, Roxanne was a jokester just like him. They'd been friends first and then they'd developed into something more one day, all _poof!_ and presto-change-o, he and Roxanne were an item. Constantly lip-locked, her cousins gagged at seeing them together. But he loved how rowdy Roxanne was. He'd even stayed with her for seven (going on eight) years now.

He was even debating their surely strong future together when he was invited over to a large Weasley–Potter clan family dinner. The thought of proposing to Roxanne seemed like a heinous idea, really, for someone as unsettled as Lorcan. He'd even heard Harry and Hermione and Ron and some of the other older adults joke about him being too much of a playboy at heart. They said that he was like Sirius Black, Harry's long-deceased and beloved godfather. Well, thought Lorcan, who cared? Lorcan was alive and could do anything he wanted. He didn't have to be like Sirius Black.

Since everyone was at the dinner, he pondered taking George and Angelina, Roxie's parents, aside to talk to them about his longtime girlfriend. He had all but gathered the courage to ask them when that horrid thought hit him—

You only married someone you loved. Did he even love Roxanne?

That thought, not the treacle tart pudding, made him green in the face. His mother, Luna, even asked him if he was all right. He'd excused himself from the table and jogged outside. Yes, the fresh air was all he'd needed.

But that thought still haunted him, and it sapped his courage. No, he would not be talking to George and Angelina tonight. But he didn't know why.

Back at the table, he sipped at his water. His usual grin faded into a grimace. How could everyone be so damn jolly and happy around him? Why couldn't someone realize he was brooding? Couldn't his damn twin, Lysander, telepathically sense that he was hurting?

No, no one noticed. Except that ruddy woman, Dominique.

She didn't even need to say anything. All she had to do was look across the table and meet his eyes, a trace of concern in her hazel eyes. Her brow furrowed ever-so-slightly, but she didn't say anything.

He wished she'd stop looking at him like that. He didn't want to see that look on her face. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to be happy so his brother would be hap— No, that wasn't it either. He just wanted her to be happy.

Then it hit him.

He remembered dating almost every goddamn female thing in school. He remembered snogging hundreds of girls whose names and _faces_ he couldn't even remember. He remembered shunning to an extent those nasty bitches who wanted to exact revenge on him for breaking up with them.

Most of all, he remembered how the only girl he'd ever treated with respect was Dominique Gabrielle Weasley.

As dinner finished and dessert flew out of the Weasley kitchen, Lorcan wished he could just go home. He didn't want Dom's sad eyes on him any longer. It brought back… _bad_ memories.

Yes, _bad_ memories. He hated thinking that there was one girl to whom he'd always given a polite "hullo," a girl for whom he'd always held open the door, a girl off whom he'd never copied his homework (well, not as if he really needed to—he had been in Ravenclaw, but he was just lazy) or even asked to copy her homework. That girl sat across from him, her hazel eyes asking what tortured him so.

He turned his face away, watching instead something Lily did in response to her much older boyfriend, Teddy's, inappropriate comment. He watched the others laugh at the couple. He heard Hermione scold Ron for once doing something similar, and Rose laughed that Scorpius had taken it a little further than that. Lorcan held Roxanne's arm as she howled with laughter at her cousins' antics.

He really wanted to leave.

Lorcan's mind was being awful to him. It kept reminding him that Dominique had never been his type— _too prim and proper_ , it reminded him. It told him that he'd worshipped—in a gentlemanly way—the ground dear, sweet Dominique had walked all that time, and that he still did it today and _that_ was why he could never be only Roxanne's.

He truly, deep down, wanted to be only Dominique's. He worshipped her because he loved her wholly, truly, and unconditionally.

Dominique sent him a small smile and nodded her head. His heart soared. Did she know? Did she feel the same way? Did she actually like him more than she politely showed? Had she liked him all this time, too, and had she just been waiting for him to recognize his own feelings?

Lorcan smiled his usual grin, his comfort and happiness returning. Maybe he'd finally say something to her. More than an "It's a beautiful morning" or a "You are looking quite lovely today, Dominique." He nodded back and gave her his impish wink when Roxanne wasn't looking. Dominique laughed quietly, happy tears at the corners of her eyes. Was she really happy that he'd finally realized that they should've been together all the time?

Lysander stood and announced his engagement to Dominique.

All the hopes in the world came crashing down on Lorcan's shoulders. Forget Pandora. Lysander had just released Hope out of her box, and the world was now crumbling all around Lorcan.

Dominique had not been happy to see the realization on Lorcan's face. She hadn't seen realization on his face at all. She'd thought that he was nodding to her for Sander and her to make their proclamation.

The clapping all around him was like someone drawing their nails on a blackboard. It made his ears damn near bleed.

Roxanne nudged him, giving him a questioning look. She urged him to congratulate his brother, and he begrudgingly did so.

So he wasn't the only follower in this new religion. Lysander also saw Dominique as his goddess. But Lorcan wished he could make her know that she'd been _his_ goddess first. So what if they weren't right for each other? That was _why_ they were right for each other!

She'd been _his_ goddess first….

**Author's Note:**

> SOOOO! BITTERSWEET! X( How could I have done this to my Lorcan?! I love him so much and yet—! ARGH! I'm so angry with myself, but I loved writing this. This Dom/Lorcan is veeery different from hannahpaige's, [Better Than Him](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4501352/1/Better-Than-Him), which inspired me to write the pairing, but I'm toying with the idea of doing one where Dom's a little more fiery because Hannah's is so inspiring; this fic, though, is for you, hannahpaige. If you read my other Dom fics—which are all Dom/Lysander—you'll see that I make her the stronger personality to Lysander's kinder one, but Lorcan could bring out the fire in her… Hmmm… :D I dunno, but Dom/Lorc is very addictive!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review!
> 
> -mew-tsubaki ;3
> 
> Thanks for beta'ing as usual, Morghen!
> 
> 2016 note: Another "hmm" moment for me. I liked the ending, but it's funny to me to see my early headcanons for the next-gen (in the six years since I originally wrote this, my views on Lorcan have changed vastly, *lol*).


End file.
